


Impossible Plans

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fury's impressions of Coulson, through the years.</p><p>For this prompt at comment-fic on lj: <i>Fury & Coulson (or Fury/Coulson). What is it about Coulson that made Fury go to such extremes to bring him back?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible Plans

Fury is bleeding in six places, but it’s the shots to his shoulder and leg that are in a race to kill him. 

He’s starting to get cold.

He leans back into the dirt, knowing what’s coming. If he still believed in a Maker, he’d be ready to meet Him. He’s not ready to be done – not even close – but since he sure as hell doesn’t have a choice in the matter, he figures he may as well try being ‘at peace’ or whatever shit it means to not die bitter and whining.

He closes his eyes. It goes dark.

Then stillness.

Then motion…. Agitation.

“I got eyes on Fury,” says a familiar voice.

Fury opens his eyes, winces at the sun, at the pain. “I told you to head north. Coming back here was suicide,” Fury growls. He’s pleased that he manages to sound menacing even though he can barely breathe.

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Coulson tsks, and the pain suddenly becomes worse. Coulson, it seems, has decided to torture him by applying pressure to hopeless wounds.

“I’ll have you court martialed,” Fury mumbles.

“That loses its luster when you threaten it every week,” Coulson says.

“Because you disobey orders every week. You are a fucking disgrace to the Rangers, Coulson. I should….” Things start to go dark again.

“Fury!! Nick!!” Fury hears Coulson yell, and _shit_ , because Coulson doesn’t sound like that unless things have really gone to hell.

The next thing Fury remembers is waking up in the hospital. 

He has lots of visitors. Some of them are stupid enough to bring balloons. 

After hours, Coulson sneaks in a bottle of Scotch, strictly against medical orders, and Fury tells himself that it’s only for that reason that he doesn’t go through with the court martial.

\--

Fury has been Director of SHIELD for a month when HYDRA attacks a facility in Idaho. Coulson’s closest, and he’s at the scene for an hour when Fury gets a call. 

The situation has been resolved.

“Casualties?” Fury asks. 

“None,” Coulson says. 

“Really? And the HYDRA agents?”

“Alive and in custody. Several are getting medical treatment.”

“You subdued 57 enemy agents without getting anyone killed?” 

“They really weren’t that bright, sir.”

“I’ll look forward to reading that report,” Fury says, not even caring that his smile fills his voice.

“Already started on it.”

Fury smiles and hung up. 

He does end up enjoying that report. And as a bonus, the griping that the new director had brought in an old army buddy and let him leap 5 levels pretty much stops. 

\--

“Really, Coulson?” Fury asks. They’ve been here a few years, and Coulson has a pick of assignments. Why the hell would he ask for the job that nobody wants?

“I’ve read Barton’s file, and he’s the right one for the mission,” Coulson says matter-of-factly.

“He’s the best sniper by a mile, and I mean literally a mile farther than the other snipers. But you just need any competent sniper for this job.”

“That’s not why I need him.”

“You know he’s a pain in the ass, right?” Fury says.

“Some of my closest friends are pains in the ass, sir,” Coulson says.

“Have I ever kicked you in the face Coulson? Because I kind of feel like I should have,” Fury mutters.

“I’m sure while we were in the Rangers, we got drunk enough to kick each other in the face, sir. We just don’t remember it.”

Fury sighs a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.” He doesn’t know how he’s gotten into the habit of saying yes to whatever dumbass thing Phil wants to try.

Six months later, Clint Barton has some of the highest ratings of all the field agents (highest on skills and accomplishments, still lower echelons for the psych eval and teamwork skills). Coulson’s team, with Clint as its star field agent, has the best success rates in the organization, even though they constantly volunteer for the hardest missions. 

“How the hell did you get Barton to fall in line?” Fury asks Phil one evening over drinks.

Phil smiles. “Barton’s one of the smartest men I know, and he gets the job done. He doesn’t need to stay in line.” Phil takes a long sip and gives him a little smirk.

“You spoil them, you deal with them,” Fury warns.

“No problem.”

\--

Fury thinks the only solution is to bomb the whole building to hell, but Phil thinks that Agent May can do the whole damn thing herself. 

It works. 

Fury’s not even surprised at this point. Phil knows people’s talents better than they know them themselves.

Later that night, Phil gets drunk in Nick’s office, so drunk it’s like they’re sharing a tent again, with Phil leaning against Nick’s shoulder, drowsing off as he drunkenly rambles about his guilt, his empathy (which Nick thinks he has a little too much of).

This time, it’s because Phil saw the look in Agent May’s eyes, and is now convinced that she will never be the same. He’s guilty because he knew that this would happen and ordered her in anyway.

Fury isn’t sure that’s true. Fury and Coulson have both taken out their fair share, and they were mostly okay. But he pats Phil on the shoulder, wraps an arm around him, and tells him that it will be okay. 

Phil turns out to be right about May. She wants a desk job, and her colleagues keep whispering about what’s wrong with her. 

Fury knows that the alternative would have been much worse. The sacrifice is a good one. 

And the fact that Phil, even with all his overgrown empathy, sent May to make that sacrifice, knowing what it would cost her, is just another reason Fury trusts him more than anyone.

Hell, most days the list of people Fury trusts only has one name.

\--

Fury has his doubts about Natasha at first, but Clint is sure, and Phil, for some stupid fucking reason, trusts Clint’s instincts. 

Nick, as a policy, doesn’t use the phrase “You were right,” and Phil has the good sense to never dwell on being right about things.

Natasha proves her loyalty again and again. There is occasionally video footage of Black Widow taking out enemy teams with her bare hands, and Fury tells the analysts to study it to retool all hand-to-hand training (Natasha, to no one’s surprise, declines the offer to personally teach).

Phil, Clint, and Natasha get the shittiest missions. Long shot projects, high in danger, not enough knowns, no backup and no extraction.

Fury doesn’t even worry.

When shit that could end the world starts popping up every couple of months, he still doesn’t worry. He sends his best team, and knows what they’ll do.

It feels almost like safety, and almost like hope, and Fury can't even remember the last time he felt like that when it didn't involve Phil.

\--

When Fury’s ex-wife is murdered, he takes a week off. 

He travels to the city where she died (where she was writing an article exposing city officials’ ties to criminal enterprises) and starts running surveillance.

The second day in, Phil finds him. Fury almost shoots the guy knocking on his window until he recognizes who it is.

Fury doesn’t want him there. Revenge killings are not acceptable for people in Fury’s position. You run a highly non-transparent, high-tech, abundantly armed agency, and people don’t feel safe if you go off on personal vendettas. 

Coulson says that he has a lot of vacation time coming, and that if Fury doesn’t let him take it, he will file a complaint with Human Resources. He even shows Fury the complaint form, which is already filled out.

“You know, it’s not natural to be that good at paperwork, Phil. There’s something wrong with you.”

“Like anyone would put up with you without something seriously wrong with them?” Phil says. It’s a smartass comment, and an invitation to talk about his ex too.

Fury declines. “Guess not. You know, this won’t be up to your standard of ethics. What I’m going to do goes against everything you believe in.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Coulson says, and Fury knows he’s right. There are a hell of a lot of things that Coulson never would have done – things that Coulson was disgusted with himself for doing -- if it hadn’t been Fury asking him to, and Fury knows it (that’s why he always asks Phil personally, because Phil can’t say no to him any more than he can say no to Phil). 

For some reason, Phil stays with him, is loyal to him, even though he knows Fury will never stop asking him for things that grind away at his ethics, at his heart, at all the things that make him Phil.

There really is something wrong with Coulson, Fury thinks.

He accepts Phil’s help anyway. Phil is the only one who’s known him long enough to remember his wife, to remember a time when Nick was lucky enough to marry her and stupid enough to drive her away. 

They clean house. The city reels. They walk away, together. Like always.

\--

“It’s aliens or monsters or crazy ass generals or superpowered dickheads every damn day,” Fury grumbles, a few days after what SHIELD had termed ‘Fury’s Big Week.’ 

Coulson just shrugs. “You were just saying you wanted more teamwork building activities.”

“You know I fucking hate you, right?”

“Yeah, of course you do,” Coulson says, and Fury is positive he sees Coulson wink.

 

\--

Everyone at SHIELD thinks Phil is crazy. And that it’s only favoritism that makes Fury even consider an idea as ridiculous as the Avengers Initiative.

The guy who’s moped in his apartment for two years because he's still sad about being in this century. The giant monster fueled by rage. And Tony fucking Stark. 

Working together, no less.

Fury sees why they think it’s a bad idea. 

Even he wonders if SHIELD would ever be able to control a team like that. 

But then the Chitauri come, and Thor is there, and Clint is possessed by some fucker from another planet, and pretty soon, Phil is lying bleeding on the Helicarrier floor.

There are very few times in his life when Fury feels like he can’t breathe.

He has shit to deal with, though, and he’s never known anyone better than Phil at putting together a team that nobody could expect would work. The man was right too damn often to ignore.

Fury puts the Avengers together, with Thor and Natasha and eventually Clint. 

They get it done.

Phil saves the world, even after he’s dead. 

Because Phil’s team always gets it done. 

Because when anyone with sense would give up, Phil decides it’s simply time for an alternate plan. 

Phil is in a bodybag already. 

Fury spends several days doing his job, keeping everyone in line, quietly falling apart. 

There was one person left who Fury didn’t think of as “the rest of the world” and he was gone. 

Finally, a few days later, Fury thinks of it, late at night. 

If Phil were really desperate for something, he would find a way.

He would find a ridiculous way, that everyone else said was wrong and crazy, that no one in their right mind would think is a good idea. 

Fury gives the orders to medical the next morning.

He doesn’t watch any of the procedures.

He doesn’t think about the day when Phil will realize that Nick betrayed him (again – all those times he asked Phil to be less, worse, than he was were surely betrayals too).

He certainly doesn’t think of all the mad scientists they’ve put in cells for less than what he’s doing.

He makes it happen.

Impossible missions are Phil’s specialty. He can always count on Phil to pull through.

When Phil is finally back, the doctors worry that he’s not really the same.

Fury doesn’t care. He wasn’t the same either, not after losing Phil, temporary though it was.

“Just try and make him happy,” Fury orders, and they invent a story about Tahiti.

After Coulson comes back to work, people start grumbling about Coulson again. They wonder why Fury grants every request he makes – the plane, the jobs, the ridiculous team makeup. They wonder why other agents who have died for a few seconds don’t get that kind of treatment.

Fury knows that with time, Phil will prove them wrong again.

Fury visits Phil only occasionally after that. He doesn’t want to see him too much, in case Phil catches on.

He quietly resents Phil’s team (who are, of course, racking up victories that other teams could only dream of). But Fury broke moral and natural law both to bring Phil back, and that second one was a brand new deal for him. And it was these kids on the team who got Phil. Not him. 

He doesn’t visit Phil often enough to form an opinion if he’s the same man as he was before, if he’s still what he was, once, to Fury.

He watches from afar.

It’s almost good enough.


End file.
